Hills Dale 54
by Jack Longstreet
Summary: During her restless eighteenth summer Lorraine Banes encounters a strange family occupying an abandoned boarding school outside Hills dale. She is immediately smitten by the handsome eighteen-year-old Tommy Smith and through him is drawn into the shady world of fetish photography and movies, which his aunt produces.
1. Chapter 1

HILLSDALE 54

 **CHAPTER ONE THE GIFT**

The strange boy was making strange sounds, something more manly than a moan but more sensuous than a groan. I crouched down beside the bed, _**my**_ _ **bed**_ and put my face close to his beautiful, full mouth to try and hear if he was saying something. His breath was surprisingly sweet, but I couldn't make out anything from these shamefully stirring sounds; his long-lashed eyelids fluttered, but his eyes didn't open. He remained passed out just as he had been since my dad hit him with the car just down the street from our house. He was lying on his side, my soft quilted cover almost up to his shoulders showing his strong, "farmer tanned" arms and broad white shoulders. Gently I reached around and probed through his soft sandy hair and felt the big bump at the back of the head where he had hit the ground. It was quite a big bump and there was some abrasion; there had been a little bleeding, but it had stopped now and I was hoping that it wasn't too serious. I lightly touched his forehead. He was still hot, but not as hot as he had been a half an hour ago; I pressed the cool damp cloth against his forehead. He stirred, and I drew back quickly; he thrashed and kicked at the covers until they were down almost to his ankles and then he rolled over onto his stomach and began breathing deeply again.

I took a deep breath to try and still my wildly beating heart; I felt as if a gift from heaven had been delivered to my door – right to my bedroom! His bum was delightful; in his thrashing he had bunched up his clean, tight withies exposing the snowy mounds of his butt cheeks, so round and pure and unblemished. They were so strong looking, yet I knew that if I touched them his skin would be soft and smooth.

I moved closer to the bed thinking I should cover him up, but when I got close I couldn't take my eyes off his gorgeous bum and said to myself "Well it _**is**_ very hot in here," and left him alone while I slipped out of my sweater.

It _**was**_ hot, I could feel myself sweating all over. I sat down gently on the bed, and instead of pulling up the blanket I bent down until my face was almost pressed against his white cheeks. Before I knew what I was doing I had slipped my fingers under his waistband and gently slid his underwear down a few inches to show off his crack.

Sighing, I stood up, and without taking my eyes off of his bum I backed up to the end of my bed and snuggling up to the wooden cannonball post and began rubbing my pussy against it.

"Oh God help me, he's beautiful," I moaned and pressed harder and began rubbing a little faster, bending my knees to get more power into the thrusts. My pussy was always needy these days, it needed to be rubbed and petted, and fingered ever so slightly. When I worked my love button I could bring myself to an unbelievable place, but I lived in a very crowded house with a sister (who I shared a room with), two brothers and another child on the way, so I had almost no time to myself. These days I was always walking around hot and bothered and crying out for release **.**

Even though my mother might walk in at any minute I couldn't stop myself from quickly popping the top four buttons on my high collared dress. With quaking fingers I reached inside my stiff white bra and started pinching my left nipple and squeezing my breast. "Oh I want to bite him, I want to eat him right up," I moaned softly. "I want him to eat _**me**_ right up!"

Just when I was starting to get to the point of no return he groaned again and stirred. I jumped back from the end of the bed flushing deeply with panic and embarrassment, but he didn't seem to wake. He thrashed a bit at the blanket down at his ankles and rolled over on to his back. I waited a minute, allowing my heart to get down out of my throat, and then crept back up to the side of the bed. I took a long deep breath and closed my eyes against the passion building in my chest. I took the damp cloth that was on the bed and gently dabbed his hot forehead; his eyelids fluttered again, but didn't open, and he continued to breathe softly and steadily through his wonderfully full, parted lips. 'He was _**such**_ a dreamboat; _**soooo**_ cute!"

My eyes slid down over his hiked up, white tee shirt to his exposed flat belly and then past it to his tight white underpants. I took another dep breath; I could see the whole outline of his manhood as it strained against the material. At the bottom was a bulge that looked as big as a tennis ball, and then rising from that and lying across his groin was his staff. My eyes widened; it was thicker than a garden hose, thicker than a flagpole, almost as thick and fat as cucumber … and long, stretching seven or so inches across his lower belly with the head just about peaking out the top of the waistband. I quietly pulled my chair up next to the bed, level with his crotch and sat down. Bending forward I put my face less than a foot above him to get a good look.

I had always been curious about things "down there'" and had been trying to get boys to "show me yours" since I was about ten. I had seen a few pictures of paintings and statues, and some rude teenage boys like Biff had exposed themselves to me, but this boy was nothing like them. This wasn't some silly little bundle that you could cover with a fig leaf, it wasn't some weak dangly thing; it was long and thick and powerful.

I couldn't help myself; I had to touch it. I reached out with my thumb and first finger and felt its girth, trailing my fingers slowly from bottom to top. I did it again, taking it more firmly so that my palm pressed against it. I watched fascinated as it began to grow bigger, much bigger. It grew another four inches and stiffened, straightening and forcing its way out of the top of his underpants so that the cute head and a couple of inches of shaft came out the top.

"Now that's manhood!" I thought. "That's what I've been looking for!"

He stirred a little and I froze, but his angelic face stayed calm even though his breathing seemed a little faster **.** I hiked up my dress and then went back to slowly, firmly stroking his hard cock with my right hand while my left slipped inside the band of my panties and began to rub my special place. I drank it in with my eyes and then licked my lips; I wanted to kiss it, I wanted to place my lips on that beautiful head; I _**had**_ to kiss it, it was so beautiful!

I puckered and brushed it softly with my lips surprised and excited by his wonderful smell. I kissed it again and again, harder, more urgently; my tongue, all on its own, darting out to explore it as it got even stiffer and bigger. My fingers worked faster on my wet pussy and I bounced a little on the hard wooden seat my whole ass eager. The thought pushed into my head that I wanted to take the whole thing in my mouth, to wrap my lips around it and take right down my throat. I wanted to suck on it, I wanted it inside me, in my mouth, in my pussy. My mouth went slack and my eyes closed as I got near to the very edge of divine ecstasy.

"Hmmmmm … whhhat?" he moaned gently and again I sprang back from him, almost toppling over my chair.

"What's going on up there Lorraine? Is everything alright?" my mother called from downstairs.

I didn't want to shout in his ear and startle the boy, so I rushed to the door and stuck my head out and shouted back. "I just tripped over the chair momma, everything is alright."

"Is the boy awake?"

"Just starting to."

"Well don't let him stand too quick."

"Yes momma,"

"Do you need me?"

"No I can handle it momma," I replied and ducked back inside the room and firmly closed the door wishing for all the world that I could lock it and just be left alone with this wonderful boy for a day or two – well maybe three or four.

He was still lying on his back, but his eyes were open and he turned them, they were a most amazing blue, on me and seemed to try and focus. His cock was still hard and I quickly pulled the covers up to just above his waist giving it one last look of longing.

"Where am I?" he asked, slowly reaching for the back of his head and probing it.

I took his hand away from there and held it in my lap. "Careful," I said, "you have quite a bump there."

He didn't resist my grasp and still seemed to be trying to focus his eyes on me. "What happened?" he asked.

"You got hit by my dad's car in front of our house and fell and hit you head," I said.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Lorraine, Lorraine Baines."

"You have beautiful eyes Lorraine Baines," he replied and closed his own. "I feel a little dizzy," he said.

I took that opening and settled myself near his shoulders and gently patted his forehead with the damp cloth; "Does that feel better?" I asked, my voice throaty with desire.

"It does," he replied; his voice was strong and soft and a little husky. "You have a very nice touch."

I closed my eyes and squeezed my legs together, literally feeling my pussy leaking. I shifted a little closer and bent down a bit more, marvelling at his pure skin.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Tom Smith," he replied, "people call me Tommy."

"Pleased to meet you, Tommy Smith," I said with a sigh. "I think you have beautiful eyes too."

He smiled and opened one and then another of his baby blues. "Now I remember," he said; "My truck broke down and I was fixing it, and I jumped out of the bed and I must have jumped right in front of your dad's car; Geez, I'm sorry to cause so much trouble."

He tried to lift a hand to his forehead but I caught it held it; "Oh don't worry, it seems to happen all the time around here, just so long as you're okay. Is there someone we should call? Your mother, or maybe a girlfriend or something;" I was sounding a little more timid than I usually did.

"My Aunt Bettie, sure. How long have I been out?"

"About two hours," I replied.

He struggled to sit up and I stopped sponging his head, but only moved back a little so that that we were still very close together. I could feel the heat coming off of him and felt myself leaning in towards him, fighting the urge to grab him around the shoulders and hug him.

"My Aunt will be worried, I should call her," he said. He looked at me and his eyes seemed to really focus for the first time. He looked me up and down and gave me a smile that made my heart flutter.

By sitting up he had made the sheet drop again so that it fell a little below the waistband of his underwear; I couldn't stop my eyes from roaming down his strong chest and flat stomach to his crotch. The bulge was still big, but the head of the beast had retreated back inside.

He caught me looking at him and I felt myself flush; "You should cover yourself up," I said choking a little.

His smile grew larger; "And what about you?" he said and nodded towards my chest.

I gasped; I had left my dress unbuttoned down almost to my waist, exposing my large swelling breasts cupped by my brassiere. I went to cover myself up, but I had the cloth in one hand and I felt silly, so I let my hands drop and stared at him boldly; "Well it _**is**_ hot in here," I said.

"I'm not complaining," he replied in an appreciative tone that thrilled me to my toes; "Just if your mother comes in she might think I was trying to take advantage of you."

I smiled my naughty smile and licked my lips remembering how his cock felt on my tongue; "Or maybe that I'm taking advantage of you," I replied.

"Either way, I think I would be bad manners on my part not to say something," he kept on grinning and looking from my face to my heaving breasts making me squirm a little in my damp panties. "By the way, where are my pants?" he asked.

"Over there, on my hope chest," I replied looking down demurely and starting to button my dress.

"Will you get them for me?" He had a naughty smile of his own, a wonderful, devastating smile.

I looked up as I fastened the last button; "Maybe you should get them yourself, you know, so that we can be sure that you can walk alright," I said in my silkiest, teasing voice.

I had meant it as a joke, so when he said, "You're probably right," and threw off the sheet and stood up and presented his long white package almost in my face, I giggled and, forgetting the chair behind my stumbled back and knocked it over again.

"Lorraine, is everything alright up there?" my mother called out.

"Everything's fine momma," I shouted back while watching his tight buns clench as he walked gingerly across the floor to _**my**_ hope chest. "He needs to phone his aunt; we'll be right down."


	2. Aunt Bettie

**HILLDALE 54**

 **CHAPTER TWO AUNT BETTIE**

Tommy said he felt okay enough to drive, but the part he needed to fix his truck was in his Aunt's car, so she was gonna come and meet him; he said that she'd be here in about a half an hour. The rest of my family had supper while we were upstairs, so my mom asked Tommy if he wanted some, but he said no thanks, and we went and sat in the living room to wait.

I wanted to keep Tommy all to myself, but I knew that my mother would come right out and ask him all the things I was too shy ask; stuff I was dying to know. But she didn't get the chance because my dad spoke up right away. He worked in a furniture factory, but thought of himself as quite a mechanic; "What's wrong with your truck?" he asked.

"Oh, I've been working on some ideas, you know making some of my own modifications," Tommy replied.

"You mean supeing it up, like a hot rod; I used to do some of that back when I was a kid."

"Well I did some of that back in LA, there's quite a Hot Rod scene out there, but with my truck I'm trying something different."

I looked over at my mom and both of us rolled our eyes once they started talking boring mechanical stuff. "Well, I guess nobody's perfect,'" I said to myself, but I smiled and moved a little closer to him on the couch' I could put up with a car nut, and anyway at least dad seemed to like him, and that was a first, believe me.

"So do you go to High School in Los Angles," my mother asked when she could get a word in.

"I just graduated ma'am; in the fall I am starting at MIT," he replied.

"Well I hear that's a very nice school; are you going to be an engineer?"

""Yes ma'am."

"That's a very expensive school isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am, but I got a full scholarship."

"Oh good for you," my mother nodded at him and looked over at me and I snuggled right up next to him. The greedy way she was looking at him made me feel that she wouldn't have minded if I had been bare naked up there in my room with him.

"Football?" my dad interrupted turning his attention away from our new, our first, television.

"I played sir, wide receiver, but my scholarship is for my academic work, some of my tinkering has paid off; they were impressed with a couple of patents I obtained."

Then my dad started talking mechanical stuff which was really frustrating because there was so much more important stuff I wanted to know. How old was he? He had to be at least seventeen, but he could be eighteen, or even older if he had been left behind a couple of grades like me. Of course what I really wanted to know, and mom too I'm sure, was did he have a girl? Every now and then he would look at me and smile, and I felt like he was going to take my hand or something, but he didn't.

"So you're just passing through from Los Angles to Boston?" my mother asked the first chance she got.

"No, my Aunt has some work to do in the area and I'm going to help her out for the summer before I go off to college," he replied.

"Work in the area, you mean in Hillsdale?" I blurted; I had been afraid he was going to slip through my fingers, but now I had some hope.

"Yes, near hear," he replied.

"For how long?" I asked.

"Oh I guess she figures six weeks or so, she's not sure right now."

"Well, what is it she does; is she in the movie business," my mom asked with a laugh.

"Well, kinda," Tommy replied shyly.

"Go on!" my mother exclaimed."

"Really," I gasped and used the excitement to close right up to him. I slapped his thigh, gave it a good long squeeze and left my hand there.

"What does she do for heaven's sake?" my mom asked.

"Well, I don't want to sound mysterious or anything, but I'm not really supposed to say," he replied looking down at his feet.

"Oh, now that _**is**_ mysterious," my mom replied and leaned forward in her chair.

He seemed a bit embarrassed; and then the doorbell rang and he looked relieved; "You can ask her yourself," he said with a grin and stood up with the rest of us.

Of course his Aunt Bettie was beautiful, not that she was really done up like a Hollywood star or anything, but she was definitely not Hillsdale material. She was pretty young looking, mid-thirties maybe, and in really good shape. She was wearing a kind of clingy blue blouse with a white Tee shirt underneath; she had pretty big breasts, but she wasn't wearing the kind of bra that really sticks out **,** you know, not really obvious; and tight white slacks that zip up the back. You could see a lot of family resemblance; she had pale, clear skin, kinda faded green eyes, and thick reddish-blonde hair that she had tied up behind her head except for a few strands that fell down at the sides of her face. She had perfect white teeth like Tommy, and a pleasant, friendly smile; not stuck up or anything at all. She was pretty tall, probably about five-nine in her three inch heels, so at first I didn't see little Skeeter, who was even shorter than me, maybe five-one, and not wearing heels, who had come in the door behind her.

Tommy hadn't been clear about his cousin Skeeter; I thought maybe he was a boy, or maybe a younger girl, you know, the little pest kind like a mosquito. No such luck; she was so cute I wanted to spit. She was a real Christie with pale white skin like a statue, and so clear; it just wasn't fair that a teenager should have such clear skin. I mean mine is very nice, I keep it real clean and everybody remarks on it, but _**hers**_ was pure, like new-fallen snow. She had gorgeous long, thick, dark red hair that slanted a bit across her forehead, almost covering her left eye, and then falling down to big waves just past her shoulders. Cute little nose, apple cheeks, but not too round, full red lips, and light green eyes like her mother; how can you compete with that? Like I said, she was short, so her breasts, about thirty-fours, really stood out pushing against the crisp white blouse she wore with the upturned collar and a bit of bare midriff above the red shorts she wore that came just up over her belly button.

She pushed past her mother and rushed to Tommy while her mother smiled patiently at her with her lovely head cocked, "What did you do now, you goof?" she asked and pressed right against him to put her hand to his forehead; "did you hurt your head?"

"Naw, I'm okay, I was working on my truck and I jumped out of the back into the road right in front of Mr Baines and he gave me a bit of a bump with his car and I hit my head, it's okay; they took good care of me," Tommy replied sheepishly. He let Skeeter fuss with him for a bit before he put her hands down from his head gently. I was glad to see that he didn't hug her or anything.

"You apologized of course," Aunt Bettie said.

"Of course," he replied.

"He was very good; I'm Mabel Baines," my mother said and put out her hand.

"I'm Bettie Lincoln, pleased to meet you, I hope he wasn't too much trouble …"

"Let's go look at that truck of yours," my dad said as soon as the introductions were finished. He didn't seem to really notice Tommy's aunt; he was more interested in mechanical things.

"I need to get the part from your car," Tommy said.

"What did I tell you, silly," Aunt Bettie replied and held out her car keys. She gave him a kiss on the forehead as he took them.

I wanted to go with him, but my mother gave me a look that told me I'd better stay with the women folk; anyway she was right, the smart thing to do was to get on his mother's good side, and besides there were a lot of things I wanted to know from her that would be more interesting than some sooped up truck. Skeeter went skipping out right after them without saying a word, and I imaged that she probably stayed as close as she could to Tommy all the time. They might not be kissing cousins yet, but that girls sure wanted them to be, I could tell _**that**_ for sure.

My mom got right into the questioning, and as Bettie Lincoln talked, the more interesting Tommy became to me. It turned out he was an orphan; his dad died in Germany in forty-five, and his mother, who had lost her only two brothers in the Pacific, took it all very hard and died a couple of years later. Tommy spent a couple of years in an orphanage in Syracuse before going to a foster home in Boston. A couple of rich old ladies took good care of him for four years and gave him a private school education. It turned out, Bettie Lincoln wasn't really his aunt; she was just an older second cousin from a branch of the family that had lost touch with Tommy's parents, that's why Tommy didn't have a southern accent like they did. It was many years before she heard what happened to Tommy, and it took a few more years to track him down, but eventually she found him and everyone agreed he should be with his kin, even if she couldn't afford the lifestyle he'd been used to. Tommy was glad to join her and her daughter Skeeter in California and he finished school at an ordinary American public school where he did very well.

Bettie Lincoln was a photographer and location scout who did contract work for several of the large studios; she did publicity shots of the stars, took stills during movie shooting, and often travelled through the States and even overseas to scout and photograph possible film locations. It paid well, not movie star money, but well enough, and it kept her hopping; Tommy and Skeeter both helped out from time to time. Which brought us to Tommy's mysterious reluctance to talk; it turned out that his aunt was scouting St Jude, the closed Catholic girl's school located in the country about twenty miles outside of Hillsdale, for a possible major production.

"The thing is," she explained; "if word gets out that a studio is interested in shooting in a location, people get excited and soon you have a whole circus on your hands which makes it very difficult for me to do my job; people start running all over the place, grabbing souvenirs, spoiling the original look of things, and the atmosphere I'm trying to capture. Prices go up for everything, people start pestering me, and often it's all for naught. I don't make decisions, I'm just taking a look, but everyone gets carried away and often there is a lot of bad feelings afterwards. So it's not really a secret, I mean, the sheriff knows and the local Diocese, but other than that I would appreciate it if we could keep it quiet."

My mother was very impressed, and I me too; impressed and happy. Happy because she said they had a big job cleaning the place up and getting it ready for some test filming and a visit by some studio big wigs, so she expected to be out there for at least six to eight weeks.

I was even happier because when I politely asked; "Won't the kids be missing their friends and sweethearts back in California?" she had laughed and said that they weren't really attached to anyone. Then it got better; she said that because it was such a big job, and since I already knew what was going on, would I like to help out?

"Boy, would I!" I exclaimed a little too eagerly and the ladies laughed; "I mean, to be part of a Hollywood production, of course I'd love to."

She was gonna pay me five dollars a day, and I'd get to be up there every day from about nine in the morning until I had to go to my shift at the diner at seven, it was all like a dream come true. I was going to get paid to be with Tommy!

When it came time to go, mom at least let me walk out to the truck and say good bye to Tommy before he got into his truck. Skeeter and his aunt had already gone, and my dad went back inside, so we were alone. I was kind of hoping he'd hug me or kiss me or something, but of course that was silly, the special moment we had in my bedroom had passed, maybe he didn't even really remember it at all because of his head wound.

Anyway he was sweet and polite; "I'm real happy you're coming out to help us," he said touching my shoulder; "you'll see, it'll be fun."

"I think it'll be great," I replied trying hard not to sound _**too**_ eager.

"And hey, if anybody gets hurt we'll be okay because you're such a good nurse," he laughed, then he winked at me and climbed up into the cab of his truck.


End file.
